


Service Call

by deklava



Series: Alpha!Lestrade omega!Mycroft [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Lestrade, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Knotting, M/M, Omega Verse, Omega!Mycroft, Rimming, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 00:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deklava/pseuds/deklava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade is an in-house alpha at a posh London hotel. One day he's called to relieve an important omega guest:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>“Apparently he’s a government official taking part in that conference on the tenth floor. His assistant says that he was too involved in the discussions to notice that his heat was coming on until it was too late. He’s locked himself in his suite and a beta security detail’s been assigned to protect him from alpha guests until you get there.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** chasingriver

“Hey, Greg.” Tanya stuck her head into the lounge. “You’re on alpha duty in ten minutes. Omega guest up in the Marlborough Room.”

 Lestrade lowered his newspaper, brows rising. “Ten minutes? That’s not much notice. No heat comes on _that_ suddenly.”

 She rolled her eyes. “Apparently he’s a government official taking part in that conference on the tenth floor. His assistant says that he was too involved in the discussions to notice that his heat was coming on until it was too late. He’s locked himself in his suite and a beta security detail’s been assigned to protect him from alpha guests until you get there.”

 “All right.” Lowering the collar of his uniform shirt, Lestrade carefully peeled off the suppressant patch he was required to wear between ‘service calls’. “Marlborough Room, eh? Who is he- the Prime Minister?”

 Tanya smirked. “Apparently.”

 Lestrade laughed, but beneath his placid demeanour, his heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

 The Detective Inspector had been moonlighting at the Regency Hotel for three months now. A messy divorce from his vindictive beta wife had left him desperately short of money and forced him to take a second job. He’d answered an advertisement for a part-time security officer at the hotel, and when the interviewer learned that he was an unbonded alpha, she’d asked if he’d be interested in a more lucrative position. The Regency was seeking ‘in-house’ alphas to service wealthy and unbonded omega guests caught off-guard by their heats. The hotel’s clientele included celebrities and high-ranking government officials whose hectic jobs occasionally left them too distracted to realize that their heat was coming on until it was too late. The hotel provided complimentary toys when such crises arose, but the demand for professional alpha services was growing.

 Now Gregory Lestrade earned obscene amounts of money by fucking posh and powerful omegas on demand, letting his knot end their misery and fill his bank account. They all loved his commanding voice, firm hand, and physical prowess. Lestrade loved their hormone-fuelled worship (a nice change from the abuse policemen typically received) and the sex. There were two rules the hotel imposed: he always had to wear a condom and he was forbidden to bite the omega and create a bond. He was providing a service, not seeking a mate on company time. If he violated either stipulation and management found out, his employment would end immediately.

 Lestrade left the employee lounge and walked down the corridor, whose narrow dimensions, scarlet walls, and black carpet brought an artery to mind. While waiting for the lift, he paused and examined his reflection in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. He carried more weight around his middle than he was happy with, but otherwise, Lestrade gave himself a passing grade. He smoothed his silver hair, checked his teeth, and patted his shirt pocket to ensure that it contained condoms and the plastic mouth guard that would prevent an accidental bite from breaking the skin. His self-control rarely made the latter necessary, but the hotel required him to carry it. Just in case he one day encountered a guest capable of turning him into a rabid, rutting animal.

 The Marlborough Room was one of two penthouse suites that took up the Regency’s entire top floor. As soon as Lestrade stepped out of the lift, three beta bodyguards intercepted him. When he showed his identification, they nodded and one patted him down for weapons.

 “He’s clean,” the man said to a pretty brunette who stood in front of the double doors leading into one of the suites. She nodded, pocketed her Blackberry, and unlocked the doors with a key card.

 “Follow me,” she ordered.

 Lestrade had smelled potent omega pheromones as soon as he exited the lift, and his body reacted accordingly. His heartbeat quickened, breathing became difficult, and he developed a raging erection. It took every ounce of his self-control to stay composed and not hunt down the waiting omega like a lusty wolf.

  _You’re here to service this guest, not ravage him._

 The brunette led him across the luxury suite and into a bedroom where a man who was obviously the client waited. The air was so thick with vaporised hormones that he could feel it blanketing his face, warm and sweet and powerful. Lestrade adjusted himself in his trousers and focused on breathing through his mouth.

 The omega guest was a tall, pale man in his early forties. He still wore the upper half of an expensive but badly wrinkled suit. The shirt hem covered his groin, but the fact that he had spread a thick bath towel on the mattress edge before sitting on it indicated that he was naked from the waist down. His straight auburn hair lay damply against his skull and his high forehead glistened with sweat.

 “Anthea, my dear,” he muttered without opening his eyes. “Thank you for bringing him. You may leave.”

 “Yes, sir.”

 When she departed, the man on the bed inhaled deeply. “Your presence is most soothing to me right now,” he rasped. “And might I add, most arousing.” He shifted on the mattress, grasping its edge and biting his thin lower lip.  His inner thighs glistened with clear fluid. “It’s also making the towel rather useless.”

 Lestrade kept breathing through his mouth. Uncomfortable and agitated clients rarely wanted to be leaped on immediately. “I’m Greg Lestrade. And you are?”

 The man opened his eyes. They were a bright, alarming shade of blue. “Mycroft Holmes. And now that the preliminaries are complete, I need you to-” he swallowed heavily “-come here and do your job. I’m not normally so abrupt, but I cannot endure this any longer.”

 Mycroft Holmes stood up slowly, turned around, and repositioned himself on the king-sized bed. Most omegas were jittery and anxious before mating with a strange alpha and required gentle touches and calm words before the manhandling began. This man was surprisingly assertive. He got onto all fours and lowered his shoulders to the mattress, leaving his bare arse elevated.

 “You don’t need to wear a condom,” he said. “I’m up to date on my birth control medication.”

 He shuffled his knees further apart and arched his back, revealing the soft and slippery hole between his pale buttocks. The flushed, relaxed muscle twitched and yielded a steady trickle of natural lubrication. Lestrade had never seen anything so filthy yet beautiful. Blood roaring in his ears, he eagerly undid his trousers and pulled them off, along with his pants. After kicking off his shoes, unbuttoning his uniform shirt and tossing it over a Queen Anne chair, he strode to the bed, dropped to his knees, and wrenched those smooth buttocks further apart.

 “You smell incredible,” he growled. “Need to taste you.”

 Mycroft moaned into his forearm when the eager alpha pressed a long pink tongue into his hole. Relishing the needy sound, Lestrade used his thumbs to hold the slippery sphincter muscle open and greedily tongue-fucked him. He’d never done this before: no omega had ever wanted anything but his cock in there. But this man clearly craved the unconventional, because he ground his hips against Lestrade and hissed, “More. Deeper.”

 Lestrade pushed his face and tongue into that writhing body until his cheeks and chin glistened with omega lubrication. The hormone facial was so intoxicating that he drew back only to take a breath and rub his cock against the side of the bed. When he couldn’t fight the mating urge any longer, he stood up and saw that Mycroft was stroking himself with one hand and pulling at his tangled red hair with the other.

 “You sure about the condom?” he grunted. His cock thrust skyward, demanding a connection of its own with that delectable body on the bed.

 “Yes… yes.” Mycroft worked his own erection more quickly. “Please… fuck me now.”

 “Damned right I’m going to fuck you now.” Lestrade was euphoric as the beast in him broke loose. Mycroft Holmes wanted no soft words or soothing preliminaries, leaving the policeman free to do what alphas were born to do: fuck an omega without grace or mercy.

 He pushed Mycroft face down on the mattress, shoved the man’s wet thighs further apart, and climbed onto the bed. He lined himself up and drove all the way in on the first stroke, gasping as the slick and tight warmth gripped his cock. He’d never had unprotected sex with an omega before, and the utterly _perfect_ synthesis of their hormones made the experience even more incredible. He was awed and ecstatic and wondering why the hell he hadn’t done this before.

 Mycroft Holmes howled at the intensity of the assault he craved. “Stop whining,” Lestrade hissed as he laid full length atop the other man’s body and covered the back of his long neck with licks and careful bites. “You know you want this.”

 Mycroft gasped and squirmed when a second thrust sent their balls smacking together. Lestrade’s animal brain, convinced that his fuck toy was trying to escape, grabbed him by the back of the neck and pinned him to the mattress.

 “Shut the fuck up. You were made for this. Made to take alpha cock for days at a time.” He shifted his hips, sliding across the omega’s prostate. Mycroft shook with pleasure and whimpered into the duvet. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll want to send for me every time you go into heat. Because no other alpha is going to handle you like I will.”

 He released Mycroft’s neck and slid both arms around that long, lithe body. The base of his cock was already thickening, warning that knotting was imminent. He pulled out a few inches and slammed back in, relishing Mycroft’s squeal as the expanding flesh stretched his arse.

 “Fuck, you’re tight. Bet you don’t mate often.”

 “I don’t,” Mycroft gasped, fingers digging the duvet into sweaty bunches. “Normally I handle my heats myself with toys.”

 “My cock is not a toy.” Lestrade corkscrewed his hips, ensuring that his rigid shaft repeatedly grazed his partner’s prostate. He could feel his cockhead brushing against the soft and swollen opening to Mycroft’s empty womb, and imagined his seed filling it with babies. “It owns you right now. If you weren’t on birth control, you’d be pregnant by the time I leave this room.” He ran his palm over the other man’s flat, sweaty stomach. “You’d end up carrying twins, maybe triplets. Would you like that? To have no other purpose than to bounce on my cock and let me breed you?”

 Mycroft wriggled beneath him, urging him deeper inside. “Keep talking,” he pleaded.

 Lestrade grabbed his hips and pulled him onto his hands and knees. “Show me how much you want my knot,” he ordered.

 Lestrade wasn’t sure what Mycroft Holmes did for a living, but staying in the Marlborough Room meant he was someone important. Right now, however, the man was a slave to his biological needs. Red-faced and awash with sweat, he pushed against Lestrade’s hammering cock, desperate to be filled and used. One hand went to his aching prick and tugged on it, eliciting a dirty moan.

 “Oh God… oh God. I’m coming,” he choked. “Fuck me faster… oh, yes, there. Oh….”

 Peering down, Lestrade saw clear fluid spurt out of a gap in the man’s fist and splatter onto the fancy duvet. The sight intensified his own fierce arousal: he felt the familiar tightening in his gut just before his knot expanded, sending sparks exploding behind his eyes and pleasure shooting through his veins like liquid fireworks.

 Mycroft’s hoarse begging rapidly sharpened into a scream as the knot sealed his arse and stretched it uncomfortably wide. Lestrade grasped him around the waist and pulled him upward until they were pressed tightly together from the hips up. Mycroft, half-coherent from the mingled pain and pleasure, struggled in his arms and started to cry out again, but Lestrade’s broad palm silenced him.

 “Shut it,” he ordered, voice ragged with approaching orgasm. “You know you like the way my knot plugs you up. Makes your arse so sore, but you love it. You live for this type of pain. You need it.”

 Mycroft moaned his agreement against the fingers covering his mouth.

 “Oh, God, I’m close,” Lestrade hissed as he grazed Mycroft’s neck with his teeth. The knot made thrusting difficult, but he managed one powerful plunge that bounced the omega several inches upward. Then he came, each spurt making his body convulse and his vision go white.

 They both collapsed sideways onto the bed, groaning at the soft impact. Lestrade pressed against Mycroft and gripped him tightly around the waist while the omega’s internal walls clamped down on him and drained his sore balls dry. His still-swollen knot kept their bodies connected as they laid there, breathing heavily and shivering from the intensity of the whole experience.

 “Fuck,” Lestrade whispered against Mycroft’s ear. “That was…. Was I too rough?”

 Mycroft threaded his fingers through Lestrade’s. “You were perfect. Exactly what I needed. Most hired alphas are ridiculously gentle. As you pointed out, my body is made for this.”

 They rocked against each other in silence until Lestrade’s knot settled, allowing him to slide wetly out of Mycroft’s entrance. Instead of separating and reaching for their clothes, both men huddled together for a while longer, basking in the hormone-fuelled afterglow. Then Mycroft shifted in his lover’s arms and said, “I hope your stamina has returned, because I will be ready again soon.”

 No sooner had he spoken than a fresh flow of lubrication moistened Mycroft’s entrance and smeared across the alpha’s belly. Lestrade rutted slowly against that delectable arse and groaned, “Fuck.”

 “Fuck, indeed. I presume you are aware that my heat will last for several days?”

 “Yeah.”

 “I’ll require constant attention during that time.”

 Lestrade wanted nothing more than to spend days alone in this room with Mycroft Holmes, knotting him until his insides ached and bringing them both to orgasm again and again. The thought of leaving the omega to cope with the remainder of his heat by using toys or worse, another staff alpha, agitated Lestrade so much that his jaw clenched tightly. But he had a job, damn it. Obligations.

 “You have a more important obligation now,” Mycroft said, as if reading his mind. He reached up and pulled his shirt collar aside, revealing a set of teeth marks that had broken the skin.

  _Forgot the fucking mouth guard!_

 “Oh God,” Lestrade breathed as he stared at them. He’d marked Mycroft, and that meant one thing.

 They were officially bonded.

 “I understand that this terminates your employment at the Regency. But it also means you have a much better-paying job now.” Mycroft rubbed his arse against Lestrade’s cock, which sprang to each attention. “I see that you are also a policeman. Never mind how I know, but I shall allow you to retain that position and ensure that you are granted leaves of absence when I need you.”

 Lestrade propped himself up on one elbow. “Just who the hell are you, other than the best damned shag I’ve ever had?”

 Mycroft rolled onto his back and shifted until they were face to face. Now his cock was painting sticky trails across his new alpha’s stomach.

 “Your future,” he said. “Take care of me now, and I shall take care of you later.”

 As Greg Lestrade hooked Mycroft’s leg around his waist and plunged into that slick and perfect heat for a second round, he grinned from ear to ear and declared, “I love it when duty calls.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“This is so debasing. I have a country to run and all I want to do is get fucked.” When the speculum blades separated, opening his arse wide, he grabbed Lestrade’s wrist. “When we’re done, I want it hard, Gregory. I want you to bin that ridiculous patch and pound me and knot me until I bruise. Leave marks. Promise me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  
> 
> _This chapter is dedicated to all of you who begged for a sequel. It was written expressly for you!_

Greg Lestrade put his arm around Mycroft’s shoulders. “Nearly there,” he said. “Another five minutes.”

Mycroft Holmes nodded calmly enough, but his gloved fingers clutched his umbrella in a death grip. Lestrade knew he was miserable: his heat had come on after dinner last night, turning him into a sweaty, shaky, and lusty mess. Normally Lestrade would have seized the back of his neck at the first whiff of pheromones, pushed his willing body onto the nearest horizontal surface, and fucked him raw, but Mycroft’s annual internal examination was scheduled for the following morning, and the omega had to abstain from all mating activities until it was over. Lestrade mentally caged his raging alpha impulses, put on a suppressant patch, and spent the entire night keeping his partner stimulated and sated with fingers and knotting dildos.

Each time the government sedan went over a bump in the road, Mycroft caught his breath and ground his arse unconsciously against the leather seat. Before leaving the town house he had inserted a dildo-shaped sponge designed specifically for omegas who had to venture from their homes during their heats. It protected his tailored trousers but Lestrade knew that the motor vibrations and occasional bump were making him desperate. 

“Promise me,” he begged, grabbing Lestrade’s hand. “The moment we leave the surgery, you’re going to remove that ridiculous patch and fuck me on this seat.”

Lestrade squeezed back. “I’ll fuck you on this seat AND the floor.”

The car stopped in front of Dr. Sarah Sawyer’s surgery. After ordering his assistant and the driver to return in an hour, Mycroft stepped gingerly out of the vehicle with Lestrade’s help.

“She knows that your heat’s started?” the alpha asked.

“Anthea has advised her.”

No sooner had the car departed than a solidly built young man who’d been strolling past the surgery stopped on the pavement and stared at them. His eyes fell on Mycroft and lit up with greedy interest. Lestrade sniffed the air and bristled at what it told him.

_Alpha. Unbonded. Direct threat._

He stepped toward the younger alpha, keeping his stare direct and voice barely above a growl.

“Keep walking.”

His potential competitor eyed him thoughtfully, clearly calculating his chances of winning a fight. As a rule, alphas stayed away from each other’s omegas, but some arrogant arseholes liked to test that boundary, especially when faced with an attractive omega who was shedding pheromones like leaves in an autumn wind.

Instead of cowering behind his protector, Mycroft gave his potential suitor a poisonous stare. “You heard Mr. Lestrade,” he said icily. “If he doesn’t break you into pieces your own mother wouldn’t recognize, I shall be happy to perform that task myself.” Then, not content to merely threaten verbally, he touched the tip of his umbrella to the man’s chest.

The plastic tip was gone, and in its place was a gleaming two-inch stiletto.

The alpha’s eyes widened and he took a reluctant, uneasy step back. “Fine,” he muttered. After a final covetous stare, he continued on his way.

When he was gone, Lestrade gave an appreciative whistle. “Nice.”

“Too many rogue alphas see omegas as easy prey.” Mycroft pressed a button on the umbrella handle and the blade retracted. “I’ve been forced to modify a few of them in my time.”

Lestrade didn’t ask what he meant by ‘modify’.

The beta receptionist lit up when she saw them come in the door. “Mr. Holmes!” she declared, grabbing his chart and hugging it like it contained an inheritance. “Dr. Sawyer’s finishing up with a patient. She’ll see you in Room 1.”

“Thank you, Lynne.”

She beamed at Lestrade. “This must be Gregory. Congratulations on the bond.”

They both thanked her this time and followed her into the examination room. “Five minutes,” she promised, pulling a sympathetic face before leaving. “Dr. Sawyer knows that you’re anxious to get home quickly. She’s also postponed all appointments with unbonded alphas until after you leave.”

After the door closed behind her, Lestrade said, “I’m impressed. Are they taking new patients here?”

Mycroft walked unsteadily over to the examination table. “Your patient records have already been transferred here.”

Lestrade should have been irked at the presumptuousness, but all he could do was grin fondly. His influential omega’s decisions had always benefited him in some way, and it was actually a relief to lighten the burden of responsibility, leaving him free to concentrate on the more important things in his life: his work and Mycroft.

Without any preamble, Mycroft undressed, folding each article of clothing neatly on the counter. Lestrade licked his lips as he watched: the suppressant patch on his neck held the beast in him at bay, but he still felt a pang of arousal as he surveyed the body he’d come to know as well as his own. He stared greedily at the freckled white skin, sleek limbs, and the faint scar from the bite that sealed their union.

After donning the thin blue examination gown that had been left on the table, Mycroft reached back, carefully extracted the internal sponge, and dropped it in the bright yellow biohazard bin.

“The next thing that enters me,” he declared as he faced his alpha, “will be you.”

Before Lestrade could give voice to the lust that spiked sharply at those simple but loaded words, someone knocked on the door. Then a slender redheaded woman wearing scrubs and carrying a chart came in.

“Mr. Holmes,” she said. “Talk about a case of awkward timing.”

“I’m well aware, Dr. Sawyer.” Mycroft was looking more uncomfortable with each passing second. Sweat blanketed him from head to toe, his gown protruded visibly at the groin, and he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Normally I can time my heats to the hour.”

“Being bonded always changes that.” She set the chart down and extended her hand to Lestrade. “I’m Sarah Sawyer. Congratulations. We didn’t think Mr. Holmes would ever settle down.”

“I most definitely did not settle.” Mycroft smiled wearily. “Gregory exceeded all prior expectations.”

Lestrade rubbed his back, which felt damp and warm under the gown. “Likewise.”

Dr. Sawyer- a bonded omega herself, the alpha detected- went to the cabinet, took out a plastic bottle, and shook two orange pills into a paper cup. She presented them to Mycroft along with a disposable plastic cup full of water.

“I want you to take these mild sedatives. The heat will make you restless and agitated during the pelvic examination. You’ll be uncomfortable, and test results will be inconclusive if you can’t hold still. And you won’t be able to.”

Mycroft eyed the medication with distaste. Lestrade knew that the omega wouldn’t even take paracetamol for a headache without a fight. Mycroft Holmes hated to admit that he wasn’t always in control of every situation. He opened his mouth to protest, but stopped short when Lestrade’s hand landed on the back of his neck and applied a gentle pressure.

“Take them,” the alpha ordered.

Mycroft wasn’t happy, but the pseudo-scruffing aroused a submissive impulse that only came to the fore during his heat. He bowed his head and took the pills.

“This is so inconvenient,” he muttered after tossing the water cup away.

“You’ll thank me for it later, Mr. Holmes,” Dr. Sawyer said gently. “Now let’s get you situated.”

She and Lestrade helped Mycroft onto the paper-covered examination table, which was covered with an absorbent sheet at its lower end. His legs were so wobbly from the heat and now the medication that he needed assistance getting his feet in the stirrups. Seeing his normally assertive mate so exposed and vulnerable aroused Lestrade’s protective instincts: he took off his coat, folded it, and tucked it under Mycroft’s head to eliminate any potential neck strain.

Dr. Sawyer smiled as she positioned a long blue drape across her patient’s lap to preserve his dignity for as long as possible. “My alpha does the same thing for me.”

Smiling, Mycroft laced his fingers across his belly and stared at the ceiling. He was calmer now, but remained erect beneath the sheet. Lestrade could smell the lubrication that continued to trickle from his arse onto the protective sheeting, and groaned inwardly. The suppressant patch kept his hormones under control, but memory of their past fucking made his cock stir.

After washing her hands, Dr. Sawyer pushed a wheeled stool to the foot of the table, sat down, and retrieved a pair of gloves from a drawer built into its base. As she snapped them on and unwrapped a disposable plastic speculum, Mycroft’s hips canted upward, eagerly anticipating the penetration.

“You won’t need lubrication for that, Doctor,” he said, winking at Lestrade.

“I can see that.” She laid the tool on a sterile instrument tray. “Ready?”

“And waiting.”

Chuckling, the doctor turned the examination light on and pushed the drape and gown up. The soft, wet sound of her fingers separating his slick arse cheeks was obscenely loud in the hormone-blanketed silence. Lestrade wanted badly to stand behind her and watch those latex covered digits delve into Mycroft’s desperate body, but remained at his omega’s side, steadying him with a firm shoulder grip.

The moment he was penetrated, Mycroft gasped and his toes curled around the stirrups. “Oh,” he muttered, lashes fluttering. He unlaced his fingers and instinctively reached for his cock.

Lestrade prepared to stop him, but Dr. Sawyer said, “It’s all right, Mr. Lestrade. Light masturbation will lessen the frustration long enough to get the examination over with.”

“Now you know why I insisted on an omega doctor, Gregory,” Mycroft sighed as he massaged himself. Lestrade wanted to do the same, but reminded himself that before the hour was out, he’d be balls-deep in that sweet, tight heat.

Dr. Sawyer held her patient’s slippery hole open with her thumb and forefinger before threading the speculum into the moist passage. Mycroft gave a full-body shudder and arched his back, but kept his hips still. “Gregory,” he said throatily, “I do hope you don’t consider this cheating.”

“You’ll make it up to me,” Lestrade smirked. His nostrils quivered as he detected more warm fluid pulsing down his lover’s arse crack onto the sheet.

“Yes,” Mycroft gasped. “This is so debasing. I have a country to run and all I want to do is get fucked.” When the speculum blades separated, opening his arse wide, he grabbed Lestrade’s wrist. “When we’re done, I want it hard, Gregory. I want you to bin that ridiculous patch and pound me and knot me until I bruise. Leave marks. Promise me.”

Lestrade’s response was a forceful, crushing kiss that made Mycroft moan and part his lips. Their tongues clashed, inflicting what lusty violence they could. The omega’s shivering fingers reached for his alpha’s crotch and groped it.

Dr. Sawyer’s amused, sympathetic voice interrupted them. “I’ve collected the swab,” she said, placing it in a sterile container destined for the lab before standing up. “Just the bimanual examination left. Then we’re done.”

“Please make it quick, Doctor,” Mycroft breathed as their lips parted.

Lestrade gripped the omega’s hand, finding breathing more and more difficult, as the doctor slid her gloved fingers past her patient’s loosened sphincter and checked both his prostate and vaginal crease. Using her other hand, she manipulated his abdomen to examine his ovaries. Mycroft whimpered when her wrist brushed his erection.

“Sorry,” she soothed. “There. All done. The swab will have to go to the lab, but everything else looks fine.” She binned her dripping gloves and picked up Mycroft’s chart. “I have another patient to see now. You gentlemen can see yourselves out when you’re ready.”

The last three words were accompanied by a sly wink. Then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

“ _Finally_ ,” Mycroft choked. He raised himself onto his elbows and flung the protective drape away, fed up with modesty. “Gregory-”

“Hush,” Lestrade admonished, sauntering to the end of the table and placing a warm hand on each of the omega’s knees. Mycroft clenched his teeth and shoved his pelvis forward in desperate invitation, but the alpha pretended to ignore him. “This is quite kinky, actually.”

“I’m not interested in playing-”

Mycroft’s protest died in his throat when Lestrade pushed three fingers roughly into his hole, inserting them to the third knuckle so that he could access and tease his partner’s prostate and vaginal opening simultaneously. The slick anal muscle yielded easily. Mycroft, eyes glazing over with pleasure overload, flung his head back down on the folded jacket and whimpered, “Oh God, please don’t stop. Please, Gregory… more.”

Using his free hand, Lestrade undid his trousers and lowered the elastic waistband of his pants. “You’re so fucking wet. There’s actually a puddle on the floor.”

Mycroft shook his head mindlessly from side to side as he bore down hard on his alpha’s hand. The stirrups rattled from the force of his desperate shaking. “Give me your cock, damn it. Fuck, I need it. I need your knot, please give it to me. Please, please, please, now!”

Lestrade removed his patch.

Liberated hormones surged through him like electricity from an executioner’s current, making his world turn red. Snarling, he yanked his fingers out, sending excess lubrication spilling onto the already-slippery floor. His cock was so hard it hurt, as if punishing him for the earlier denial.

“You want it, do you? You’d better hope I don’t split you open, you greedy bastard!”

He drove into Mycroft like a whale ramming a ship, excited and ferocious and only wanting to fuck his partner into total submission. Pain tore along his back as Mycroft’s nails dug into his skin, but all it did was fuel his lust.

“Fuck, yes,” Lestrade grunted. He threw the omega’s legs over his shoulders and leaned down until they were chest to chest, squirming and grunting and fucking like mindless slaves to their biology. Which they would be for the next four days. “You’ve been wet and gagging for it all morning, haven’t you?”

“And all night, in case you’ve forgotten.” Mycroft seized the alpha’s lapels between his fingers and held on tight while that cock slammed relentlessly into his arse. “More! Harder!”

Lestrade bit his shoulder hard enough to bruise. “More? Harder? By the time I’m done, you’ll be goddamned lucky if there’s enough of you left to last another round. Such a greedy hole you’ve got- you just needed the right alpha to fuck you. Me. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Gregory. Yes!” Mycroft squealed when an especially aggressive thrust applied exquisite pressure to his prostate.

“You feel it?” Lestrade licked and kissed the dark indentations his teeth had left behind. His nose brushed his lover’s pulse point, nearly making him drunk on heat-ripened hormones. “Can you feel me plugging your arse and touching your womb? Can you?”

“Yes! It’s perfect!”

Mycroft bore down, trying to make each thrust more punishing. Grabbing a fistful of that messy auburn hair, Lestrade brought their lips together once again, controlling his omega’s breath as well as his pleasure.

“I’m coming!” Mycroft groaned. The paper sheet beneath him was tearing loudly as he bucked. “Gregory, oh God, _oh_!”

Lestrade felt his lover’s inner muscles clamping down just before streams of clear fluid splattered into the tight space between their bellies.

The suction on his cock and the sight of his omega in the throes of orgasm caused his knot to thicken and expand, stretching Mycroft’s anus and filling his rectum until the sensitive nerve endings protested. The omega clenched his teeth as shivery pain and exhilarating pleasure fought for control of his senses, but Lestrade’s animal brain refused to let him feel pity or slow down.

He fucked the warm body beneath him until the knot made hip movement impossible. That was when the simmering pressure in his belly erupted into a tidal wave that left him cursing and biting and coming so hard his back hurt. He orgasmed repeatedly, his body determined to punish and reward him simultaneously for denying his instincts for so long.

Beneath him, Mycroft angled his pelvic movements so that the knot bumped his prostate again and again, until a second orgasm tore through him. Exhausted and temporarily sated, he let his arms fall to his sides and luxuriated in the feel of his internal muscles milking his alpha into a state of blissful delirium.

After his fifth orgasm, Lestrade fell heavily onto Mycroft’s chest and waited for his heart rate to return to normal. “Bloody hell. That was amazing.” He raised his head and kissed the damp hollow of his lover’s throat. “All right?”

Mycroft looked like the wreck of the Hesperus, but his blue eyes gleamed with lust and mischief. “I will be if you promise to repeat the performance hourly for the next four days.”

Some alphas at the Met complained about how conventional and passive their omegas could be, even during matings. They claimed that all the fire and passion that accompanied their initial bond had soon dissipated, reducing the attraction to hormonal need only. All Lestrade had to do was gaze down at the smiling omega beneath him to know that he was the luckiest bastard in London.

If not the world.

 


End file.
